


Young Wicked

by CallingAllCarstairs



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: (for Cap's sake), Canon-Typical Violence, Drugged Jason Todd, Explicit Language, Gen, Hurt Tim Drake, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Has PTSD, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Joker Has More, Kidnapped Jason Todd, Kidnapped Tim Drake, One Shot, Tim Drake is Robin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:47:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25780834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallingAllCarstairs/pseuds/CallingAllCarstairs
Summary: “Oh my god, how you’ve grown.”Fuck. That voice. THAT voice.That voice could do more than all the cold water and smelling salts in the world. Jason snapped back to consciousness with an intense shudder. His bleary vision, called to attention too suddenly, did nothing to mask that pointed, pale face and those goddamn grinning teeth. Jason Todd woke to find himself face to face with the Joker.---------------------------------------------------Joker's going to see to it that Jason faces all his demons head-on.
Comments: 11
Kudos: 85





	Young Wicked

“Oh my god, how you’ve grown.”

 _Fuck. That voice._ That _voice._

That voice could do more than all the cold water and smelling salts in the world. Jason snapped back to consciousness with an intense shudder. His bleary vision, called to attention too suddenly, did nothing to mask that pointed, pale face and those goddamn grinning teeth. Jason Todd woke to find himself face to face with the Joker.

No hood, no mask, just his own sweat-stung eyes staring straight into the tiny pupils of the maniac who had murdered him in a warehouse halfway around the world. He willed himself not to blink despite the haze of who knows what drug still making its way out of his system.

_How in the hell did this happen? Not with him. Not again. How did he even get here?_

Some small part of Jason that wasn’t screaming right now urged him to breathe.

“It’s so good of you to come back and visit,” Joker drawled on. “We had such a tiff last time, I was sure you’d gone for good!”

He examined Jason’s scarred form from every angle, like a mildly-interested potential buyer – unsure whether to seal the deal or take him out behind the barn and put a bullet in his head. Jason slowed his breathing and tried to take in his surroundings without letting his eyes leave that unnerving smile.

The room was dark and nondescript, as far as his periphery could tell, but there was the distinct smell of freshly drawn blood in the air. He didn’t feel injured, but his adrenaline was too high to be sure it wasn’t his. Jason’s mind tried to send him reeling right back to that warehouse, but he wasn’t trained by the Bat for nothing. Forcing every fiber of his being to ignore the phantom scent of crude oil, he assessed his current situation.

He was gagged, stripped to the waist, with his arms chained up over his head, the comforting weight of his guns and other gear completely gone.

_Wouldn’t Bruce be pleased as punch. Bruce…Bruce and Dick._

Some memory tried to shout through the fog of Jason’s thoughts. He remembered talking with Dick.

 _The kid was missing. The new one. The Replacement._ _Dick came after me…thought I had something to do with-_

A chill ran up Jason’s spine as long, thin fingers stroked up from the small of his back to grip the back of his neck. His focus spun back to an abrupt halt in the face of the all-too-immediate danger.

“Are you even listening to me, boy?” Joker snapped, all faux-pleasantry suddenly evaporating to be replaced with pure madness shining through his cold, hard eyes.

Jason gritted his teeth around the gag in reply. The Joker laughed. The sound that would forever haunt Jason’s dreams sent him flashes of the countdown that had been his last sight of his first life.

_Stay here. Stay. Here._

He could still hear the goddamn beeping. Jason blamed the drugs. He’d run through scenarios like this hundreds of times, certain of what he would do next time he had this monster in his sights, but now here he was, drowning in spectres of his first last day on Earth.

 _Round one,_ Jason reminded himself. _Round two is mine._

Joker was talking again, reassuming his jovial demeanor.

“I thought I’d get you a little homecoming present, seeing as you so obviously missed our time together, _Red Hood_. I even hear you made a show of our last hurrah with the Bat’s new little plaything.”

Joker’s mouth curled up slowly as he inched closer. Jason twitched reflexively as Joker leaned out of his vision to whisper right next to his ear.

“You didn’t quite finish the job, though, did you? That’s all right, my little protégé. Sometimes, it just takes a little _practice_!” Joker stepped back suddenly, pulling a cord behind him with a theatrical flourish. A curtain dropped, and Jason’s chest started heaving frantically.

There, behind the Joker, was that same warehouse – the same dim overhead lighting, the same barrels of oil, the same countdown timer on a barely concealed pile of dynamite, even the same trail of blood that was forever stamped in Jason’s mind. This was where he’d died. Joker was squealing with delight.

 _No. Breathe._ Think. _That place is gone. This is just another fucking joke. A replica. The smells, the sounds, they were real. At least I’m not_ that _fucking crazy. File that away as a silver lining on this shit storm and stay here!_

Joker wandered out among the barrels, marveling at his own work. “Our last meeting ended so abruptly, why not have another go? If you really intend to live up to my name, we’re going to have to get you initiated properly.”

Jason stopped fiddling with the chains over his head as Joker stole back toward him with startling swiftness. “There’s no need to worry yourself over those, dear boy, not if we’re to be…partners. What do you say, old chum?”

Jason growled.

“Now, now, I know we didn’t end on the best of terms, but surely you can see past all that. Think of the damage we could do together…to Gotham…to the Batman himself! When he lost you, I thought he’d surely cross his sacred line, but it seems…you weren’t quite worth it, were you?”

Jason’s eye twitched.

“But killing me or killing _him_ wouldn’t get your point across. You want to _matter_ to the Bat?”

Jason went still.

Joker reached out to remove the gag. He pulled out a taser as he stepped away from Jason, pressing a button on the wall. The chains over Jason’s head dropped to the floor, Jason ducking out of the way just in time. Still wary to take his eyes from Joker, poised at the ready with his taser, Jason untangled the mess of chains until he had free movement of his still-cuffed wrists. He took a slow step toward Joker, who let the taser crackle.

“Ah, ah, ah! This is a _guided_ tour. You follow.” He beckoned Jason forward, sneaking backward on the balls of his feet.

Jason winced at the order. This was not going as he had imagined, but he could play along until he found his opening. Satisfying himself with the thought of ten different scenarios of killing the bastard right now, he stepped forward, dragging the chains beneath the mostly ineffectual manacles.

Joker led him back through the maze of barrels, following the trail of blood. Jason was careful to step around it, curiously unwilling to disrupt the familiar scene.

“If you want to matter to your beloved Bat-boss, I mean _truly_ matter, you have to leave your mark, just like your new comrade in arms.” Joker curbed their path at the edge of a stack of crates, the trail of blood leading around the other side. Jason recoiled at the smell of it; it was stronger than ever, and Jason knew he wanted nothing to do with what was around that corner. “And you know better than anyone, that the surest way to leave your mark is to rob him of his dear Robin!”

Reaching down to the ground, the taser still trained steadily at Jason’s chest, Joker heaved back on something heavy and limp. The Replacement slid into view, bound just as Jason had been years ago, smearing a growing pool of his own blood across the cement.

“The costume is a bit bland for my taste, but I’ve done what I can to set the mood,” Joker said lightly, studying Robin’s bindings with a satisfied smile. “Now down to business. If you want my name, you’ve got to live up to it.”

Joker produced a crowbar from behind the crates. Jason felt every muscle seize up inside of him.

“One little reenactment, and you can settle every score in your ledger, _Red Hood_.” He gingerly placed the crowbar next to Robin’s stock-still frame and skipped back out of range. “Take out the understudy, you break the Bat. It’s a win-win!”

Jason’s voice was hoarse. The words grated on his throat. “He’s already beat half to hell.”

“Well, I couldn’t very well let you have _all_ the fun! You’re the apprentice, remember? But I can learn to share. He’s still breathing, after all!”

 _Shit, is he? The kid looks worse than…the kid looks_ bad _. It’d be a kindness to put him out of his misery._

Jason bent to pick up the crowbar. The weight of it felt reassuring in his hands; it felt right. Joker smiled sickeningly.

Jason looked down at the prone figure on the floor and felt a surge of the same rage he’d felt back when he’d first laid eyes on the Replacement. He tightened his grip on the crowbar, breathing heavily and remembering all that pain. Here was his chance to rewrite all that shit history and make Bruce feel the true weight of what he’d let Jason become.

Jason raised the crowbar over his head, chains dragging across his chest as Joker’s gin widened. The man who was once Robin looked down at the Replacement, desperate breath catching in his throat.

 _Tim. His name is_ Tim. _He’s bleeding out, he’s in way over his head, and he’s just a fucking_ kid _._

Tears Jason hadn’t noticed streamed down his face as he screamed. Joker’s face fell as Jason lunged at him. The electrodes let loose their bombardment of agony on Jason’s bare chest as Jason unleashed his own on the madman who had laid such waste to both his lives.

Joker cackled and hooted until Jason broke his jaw with a well-placed thrust of the crowbar. Jason ripped the electrodes off his chest, refusing to give in to what would be the inevitability of unconsciousness to anyone not raised by Batman. He raised the weapon, striking again and again, far beyond the point where Joker passed out, into the fantasy that he’d held onto since that day in the real warehouse.

A small noise stopped him mid-swing. Jason spun around, wide-eyed, blood-spattered, and manic.

The kid was trying to talk. _Tim_ was trying to talk.

_Fuck. Tim._

He’d completely forgotten about Tim. All at once, Jason felt the energy drain out of him. He dropped to his knees next to his successor, tears still spilling silently. He slumped down and heard Tim trying, through broken breath, to speak again. He leaned closer and heard, “Please.”

_Please what?_

Jason’s chest ached impossibly, his mind threatened a blackout, but Tim spoke again. The faint voice kept Jason present, just a little while longer.

“ _Please_.”

 _Please_ what _? Please save your sorry ass? Please don’t kill the monster who’s killed hundreds because Daddy says it’s not polite? Please make this fucking nightmare end?_

“Plea…”

Tim went still again. Jason exhaled arduously, forcing down the memories of what had been, trying to focus on what was now. He could save this one. It was too late for Jason, but Tim still had a chance. Joker’s strained wheezing tormented him from behind, but Tim still had a chance, if he hurried.

Jason hoisted the unconscious and still bleeding Tim over his shoulder. He raised himself to stand on shaky legs and staggered out of the fresh terror that would taunt him for the rest of his days. Jason stepped out into the stale but welcome air of Gotham.

As they made their way toward the Manor, Jason holding Tim as tightly as he could bear on his bike, he knew he would never forgive himself or probably the kid, but at least one of them could make it out okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry I can't stop hurting our dear Timothy and now poor Jason's going through it AGAIN...I promise lighter days are in their future! Or maybe their past, but canon timelines mean nothing here!
> 
> Once again, song-inspired, but it's really just the wildness of the opening line. Check out 'Young Wicked' by Chevelle to hear it!


End file.
